


Dawdling

by SEABlRD



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Drabble, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, growing old together. kinda., mentions of the Calling so like, post-Chantry, this didnt start out serious but then.....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 13:34:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13388877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SEABlRD/pseuds/SEABlRD
Summary: There's an old man in the clinic and he's mucking things upyou know that tumblr post with he guy and the McDonalds drive through? yeah that but with a little dash of angst. i dont know what im doing.





	Dawdling

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be funny and fluffy but i got my awful little goblin hands on it and threw in a bit of Sad, as im wont to do
> 
> unbeta'd and un-spellchecked its go hard or go home tonight pals

The little elf boy walks into the clinic after sunset, shuffling uneasily in the gloaming. He has a splinter, something he got working with his father at the docks, and he was told to visit the healer to have it removed.

They didn’t tell him the clinic would be closed at this time.

There’s a shuffling noise behind a door, and the boy knows that the clinic isn’t abandoned, at least. He moves closer to the door.

“H- hello?” he calls, cursing the tremble in his voice. He shouldn’t be afraid of a healer! The shuffling stop and hurried steps approach until the door swings open and squeaky hinges.

“Hello?” A tall man looks down at him. Long blond hair speckled with grey fall over his shoulders, tied into a loose bun that pulls part at the tie. He looks exhausted, trembling and sad. Is this the healer? Maybe he should come back for the splinter tomorrow. The boy almost manages an apology but the man catches sight of him holding his wounded finger and a _light_ glints in the depth of his eyes.

“Are you hurt?” He asks, leaning down so that he’s eye-level with the boy. “I can take a look at that for you if you want. I’m a healer!”

The boy nods hesitantly, holding out his hand for the man to see. He takes it with a small smile, looking for the source of the problem. He spots the splinter immediately, _tsk_ -ing about the need to wear gloves, and leading the boy to a nearby cot.

“I’ll need my glasses for this,” he mutters. “Just sit tight for a few seconds, alright?”

The boy nods again, humoring the man to avoid any conflict. The healer makes a hum of approval, and the disappears into the doorway he came from. There’s some more shuffling on the other side, from what appears to be a storage room, and a muffled curse.

“I’m sorry, I can’t-” The healer’s voice warbles out from the other room. “I- Give me a moment, boy, I’ll be right there.”

Something falls over and crashes, making the boy wince. Should he offer his help? The healer is out a moment later with a small pair of tweezers but no glasses.

“Here, here, I have it.” He mumbles, kneeling beside the cot and taking the boy’s hand. The wrong hand. Gently, the boy pulls his arm away.

“It’s the other hand, ser,” he says, wiggling the fingers of his injured hand, ignoring the spark of irritation from the splinter.

The healer blinks absently for a few seconds then chuckles. “Of course, sorry.” he shakes his head. “I must be getting old.”

The boy doesn’t say anything further, allowing the healer to take his injured hand. He watches as the man turns it this way and that, observing the wound. He notices some back marks, almost like veins, on the healer's neck, but maybe pointing it out would distract him again. It's probably just dirt, anyway.

“You’re lucky this didn’t embed too far under your skin,” the healer remarks, scratching the strange spot on his neck . “What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t, ser.”

“Oh.” The healer seems distraught for a moment, putting his tweezers down on the floor and slumping. “Sorry, I… I’m a little distracted today. I lost my husband.”

The boy fidgets awkwardly. “Sorry to hear that, ser.”

The healer shakes his head. “No, no, it’s alright. It happens.” He takes a deep breath, staring at the floor for a long time before looking back up. “It’s nice to meet you, then. I’m Anders.”

“I’m Theden.” The boy replies, and hums noncommittally.

They smile awkwardly at each other, seemingly at a loss of what to do now that they’ve introduced themselves. Anders finally looks back down at Theden’s hand and realizes his mistake.

“I forgot my glasses!” He exclaims, frowning. “I apologize, I promise I’m not usually this scatterbrained-”

“It’s alright, messere Anders.” Theden reassures him. “I don’t mind waiting, I swear.”

Anders gives him a grateful smile as he gets up again, rubbing his knees. “I won’t be a moment,” he says, disappearing into the storage room again. There’s more shuffling, and the whole affair is beginning to take a lot longer than Theden was expecting. Another crash sounds from the back, leading Theden to wonder what’s going on back there, and then a sudden shout.

Theden nearly falls off the cot in fright, rushing to the doorway. “Messere Anders? Are you alright?” he calls, tension leaving him when he hears the healer’s laugh.

“I found him!”

“What?”

Anders stumbles out from behind a toppled pile of boxes carrying a white-haired elf who seems less than pleased with his current situation. “My husband, Fenris!” Anders announces, grinning widely.

“Put me down, you will hurt your back!” Fenris struggles in Anders’ grip like an annoyed cat. Anders eases him to the floor gently, wincing when some of his joints click audibly. The elf scowls. “What did I just say?”

Anders just laughs and lays his head on top of his husband’s affectionately. “Yes, yes, but I have to help this boy with his splinter. Maybe you can help?”

“You don’t even work here anymore.” Fenris grumbles, grabbing Theden’s hands with surprising gentleness for his harsh tone. He does something, then, causing his hands to glow and pass through Theden’s like a ghost.

Alarmed, Theden pulls his hands back and holds them to his chest. He looks down, surprised to find that the splinter is gone.

“That always was such a useful trick!” Anders grins, patting Fenris’ head. “Now I’m sure the real healer will be back soon, so you stay here Theden, and she’ll come and give you some ointment to prevent infection.”

“You’re not the healer?” Theden asks, growing weary of this man’s antics. He seems nice enough, but also seems to be a little bizarre.

“Maker no! Haven’t been back in Kirkwall in nearly twenty years!” Anders shrugs. “We’re just passing through. I have something important to do, and Fenris insisted he come with me, damn the consequences. We’re going on one last adventure!”

“It’s only fitting that it ends where it began.” Fenris says, agreeing. Theden wonders what they mean but decides not to question them about it. The two men bid him farewell before leaving the clinic, hand in hand.

Moments later, a little girl walks in with a jingling bag. She looks at Theden in surprise, putting her bag down. An empty potion bottle rolls out of it but she pays it no mind.

“Hello! How did you get in here?” She asks, hurrying to his side. “Do you need help? I’m a healer, you know.”

“Are you alright, Abhi?” Another woman’s voice calls, and an elf pokes her head in curiously.

“It’s alright, mama, there’s a boy here. I think he’s hurt!”

Theden shakes his head quickly when he sees the growing concern on the elf woman’s face. She steps in and puts her own bags down, moving gracefully to the cot.

“What happened, Da’len?” She asks. “It’s alright, you can tell miss Merrill.”

“I- I just had a splinter, but the other healer fixed it.” Theden stammers, wanting the event to be done with. This is the longest he’d had to spend in a clinic, and for a splinter!

“Other healer?” Merrill asks, looking around as though this stranger healer might jump out from behind the furniture.

“He called himself Anders, but he’s gone now.”

“Oh!” Merrill’s face brightens, and then she frowns. “So soon?”

Theden’s face must betray his confusion, because Merrill pats his shoulder with a shake of her head.

“Anders is a Grey Warden, and one of the best healers I’ve ever known!” She states, smiling fondly. “He inspired me to try taking up healing. I think it was good for me, in the end. I haven’t seen him in eighteen years! He told me that he would never come back here until he heard his Calling, you know. He wanted to be as close as possible to the place he called ‘home’ the longest when he traveled to the Deep Roads again.”

Theden peers at the door the strange pair from earlier left through. “If you hurry, you might be able to catch them before they leave.” He suggests.

Merrill’s smile widens. “Them? Was Fenris with him?” she perks up, giggling at Theden’s confirmation. “I’m glad, then. I always knew they would be good for each other! I won’t bother them now, but it’s nice to know they visited before they went.”

Theden watches, bemused, as Merrill and the girl put the potion bottles and ingredient jars away. He does end up getting the promised ointment for his finger and hurries home before he could be delayed by any further shenanigans.

He makes it back to the Alienage just as the two moons rise over the Rebellion monument in Hightown. His mama told him there used to be a Chantry there, once, but Theden doesn’t believe her.

**Author's Note:**

> at least they're together right? :)


End file.
